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by Man_Who_Sold_The_World



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst?, Gen, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Thor: Ragnarok (2017), anyway..., four other main canon characters, have fun baby, i decided that loki needed some friends and kids to mentor, i promise the title will make sense eventually, in a story with like..., just trust me, like four ocs - Freeform, loki and sif used to be friends ok, plus a shit ton of ocs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 05:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12742023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Man_Who_Sold_The_World/pseuds/Man_Who_Sold_The_World
Summary: It's impossible to kill the Goddess of Death, unlikely to escape her wrath, and unlucky if it comes upon you. Odin's Eye is found, great powers are released, and an even greater team forms.





	1. Chapter 1

“Lady Sif...you join us here once again…” Heimdall greets her as she approaches him, standing beside him as they look out at the night.

“Can you see him?” she asks.

“Thor is aiding in tensions with the Skrull.”

“Can you find the other?” she asks in a low voice, looking at him with a hard expression.

“Not if he doesn’t want to be found,” Heimdall replies almost solemnly.  “He’s hidden himself with his tricks before.”

“Can you try?” she asks.

He nods. For a moment, he is lost to her, but when he returns, he steps away urgently.

“What is it?” she demands, furious at what she is sure is a new treachery. “Whatever he is up to, I can deal with it. I can find him, I can fight—”

Heimdall’s dark expression momentarily silences her before the answer comes.  “He needs your _help_.”

 

* * *

 

Samantha stares at her clock, the red electronic type reading **1 : 5 2  A M** as it continues to blink. She stares at it for another long moment, willing it to change. It finally reads **1 : 5 3  A M** , and at that moment, she yanks her bed covers off with such ferocity that they land in a heap on the other side of her room. She pulls on a hoodie and slippers and almost spitefully walks out to her backyard. The night is freezing, and she stuffs her hands in her hoodie for warmth only to find a half-eaten granola bar there. She nearly laughs at the concept as she treads into the wooded area behind her house. She looks back for a moment, the patio light still on, and moves forward. She loves nights like this. A kind of freedom hangs in the cold air, hanging about longer than her breaths. She always felt as though her wandering would lead her somewhere someday...and she was right. As she continues about, almost as though she were in a dream, she comes upon a small, fluttering black mass. She kneels beside it, shining the screen of her phone at it to confirm that the mass is, in fact, a bird.  A raven, perhaps.  The bird chirps softly at her.  After a moment, Sam pulls out the half-eaten granola bar and breaks off a bit, holding it out. The bird greedily pecks it from her hand, crooning. Sam offers it the rest of the bar, unlocking her phone to turn on the actual flashlight. As she does, she spots two things: something shiny a few yards from them, and a wing twisted in the wrong direction.

“You poor thing…” she whispers.  Sam turns her hoodie around and gingerly sets the bird in her hood, petting it softly. Then, almost as an afterthought, she steps toward the glimmering spot on the ground. As she nears it, the bird croons louder, and when she lifts the object to eye level, the bird crows deeply. Sam studies the object for a moment, a blue amulet set in gold with a long, fine chain to match.

“Oh, who did you steal this thing from?” she asks the bird, pulling the pendant over her head and making her way back inside. “Come on now…”

She sighs as goes inside, heading directly to the bathroom. “Sorry, Edgar,” she mutters, pulling the raven from her hoodie and placing it in the tub. “Rose would freak if I had you in my room.” The raven chirps a bit as Sam pulls a towel from the rack, wrapping it around the bird.

“’Night…” she whispers, shutting off the light and heading back to her room. She picks the covers up from the floor, and pulls her hoodie off as she gets back into bed. The clock reads   **2 : 2 8  A M** , and she drifts off.

 

* * *

 

 

Loki’s been in chains before, but never any that hurt as much as these do. Hela towers over him as he struggles against them, his tricks doing him no good.

“You left me to _die_ there!” Hela snarls, barely containing her rage.

“The Goddess of Death cannot die,” he counters dryly, almost weakly, as he tries to flex his hand.

“You left me there to suffer, then,” she amends, gripping his jaw tightly. “And I shall do the same to you and that oaf.” She pushes him back. “I’ll leave you both to fates far worse than death, though your friends won’t be so lucky as to survive.”

“I have no friends,” he snaps, glaring at her.

“Then Thor’s friends will do,” she says with a wry smile. “As for you…” She pulls him by his chains. “I’ll just leave you here.”

She tosses him into the center of the room, a pair of large stone fangs hanging above him. Hela circles him for a moment as he struggles, and steps on his chain as she binds it to the floor. She caresses the nose of the serpent as the stone crumbles away, its fangs beginning to drip.

The first drop of venom hits the back of Loki’s neck, and he screams. His throat is already hoarse as he feels the next drop hit just a few inches away from the first. Hela looms over him, leering as she sees the venom drip onto his clothes, dissolving them and seeping into his skin. Loki sobs then, almost silently, as it continues to drip.

After a few minutes, Hela sighs, crouching in front of him.

“Even your _screams_ vex me,” she mutters. “Let’s silence them, shall we?” Hela produces a thick needle threaded with a small leather cord. “You always spoke so cleverly, didn’t you?” she asks sweetly as she pushes the needle through the skin of his mouth, screams and sobs still escaping his throat even as she sews his mouth completely shut. “I’d stay and enjoy this for longer...but I have other plans.” With that, she simply turns her back and leaves.

Several agonizing moments (minutes? eons?) later, a raven lands in front of him, regarding him quizzically as it cocks its head before flying off.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam awakes with a jolt and a headache. The clock stares at her, blinking **7 : 5 9  A M** before changing and blaring at her. She covers her ears, groaning as she slaps it, twice, before it finally shuts up. She sighs, eyes squinting as they adjust to the light coming in through her window before she drags herself to the bathroom. The harsh florescent bulbs don’t help any more than the natural light did, but they are a bit dimmer. She glances to the tub, confused when she sees nothing but a towel, and resigns herself to silence until the raven shows back up. She stares at herself in the mirror, the amulet still hanging around her neck from the night before. “Oh yeah,” she mutters, stuffing it into her shirt as she runs a hand through her short hair.

She jumps in surprise when her sister suddenly appears behind her.

“You okay?” Rose asks, reaching around her and grabbing her brush. “You look rough.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Rough night is all,” she replies, grabbing her toothbrush and smearing paste over it.

“How late were you up?” Rose asks, brushing out her tight curls.

“Like, 2:30…” Sam admits. “But I wasn’t even up _doing_ anything; my phone was on silent. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“You know, they say bad dreams are linked to unregulated sleeping schedules,” Rose sighs, tying her hair back as Sam spits into the sink.

“You didn’t see this one,” she counters, words mushy as she tries not to spit the remainder of the paste onto the mirror.

“That bad?” Rose asks, reaching for her own toothbrush.

“That _weird_ ,” Sam replies, ruffling her own hair with her fingers as she steps to the side. “I’ll tell you about it tonight, I’ve gotta let it cook a bit… Speaking of which, eggs?”

 

* * *

 

 

Loki anticipates nothing good when he hears footsteps near, and his imagination worsens when he’s met with the image of a cloaked figure before him. If he hadn’t his pride, he’d have whimpered in anticipation. His back is in searing agony.  Trails of dissolved flesh run down to the bone, the gashes widening further as more venom drips endlessly upon him. The pain never gets better, and it never gets to a numbing point. The room shakes with each drop upon his back.

 

The room stills.

 

He glances up, mouth straining against the leather thread as he’s tempted to look upon the figure in awe. Calloused hands hold out a bowl, collecting the venom, and giving him a moment to breathe. The figure leans down, bowl in one hand, and uses the other to pull his chain from the stone floor. He scrambles away as the figure sets the bowl down, turning towards him. Loki stares in wide-eyed awe as they lower their hood, and though no words escape his lips, a single, incredulous thought runs across his mind:

_Sif._

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay, but of _all_ the mythological archers, why Odysseus?” Sam asks as Ode releases another arrow, the tip puncturing the center of the target twenty yards in front of them. “And how is it that it took you getting your driver’s license for me to figure out that you weren’t really named Odysseus?”

“You never asked, and I told you, he was the most fitting for me.” Ode notches up another arrow and launches it at the target.

“He got lost for, like, thirty years,” Thomas retorts, watching her practice with a grin.

“ _Twenty_ , ten if you don't count the Trojan War, and he does a lot of cool stuff while he’s gone,” Ode counters, launching another arrow before letting her arms relax and setting the bow aside.

“But why not Artemis?” Sam asks as Ode shakes out her hand.

“Because I’m the best archer around _and_ I get _all the ladies_ ,” Ode replies, chuckling to herself.

“We’re actively dating,” Thomas reminds her, feigning offense before wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“Well, we weren’t when I moved here, and Rebecca’s a boring name,” Ode whispers, pressing her forehead to his.

Sam waits a moment before interrupting. “Hey, uh, not-boring question here: did you happen to get any weird readings on your fancy devices last night?”

“A bit of a spike in cosmic activity, but other than that, no.  Why?” Thomas asks.

“I had this weird dream...”

 

* * *

 

 

Sif releases Loki from his chains, helping him to his feet before he collapses into her arms. She sighs, wrapping an arm around his shoulder before he lets out a muffled cry.

“You have to help me,” she whispers fiercely.  “You have to walk.”

He nods then, stumbling to his feet and leaning against her. His tunic and the leather jerkin over it had all dissolved, and some of it had melted _into_ his skin. The short walk to her ship is made long and agonizing by his condition, but when they finally make it, they’re both relieved. She seats him on a stool, taking out a small dagger and cutting the leather cord binding his lips shut. She gingerly pulls out the cruel stitches, grimacing almost as much as he does as it drags on clotted blood. Unthinking, he opens his mouth to speak before abruptly closing it again in pain. She sets the dagger and cord aside and brings him a cup of water.  He slowly opens his mouth as far as he can bear, then pours a small stream of water into his raw throat. After a moment to contend with the dual sensations of agony and much-needed relief, he suddenly gazes up to her with such reverence that she turns away.

“Thank...you,” he rasps as she moves behind him, running a hand lightly over his back.  He sucks in a deep breath as the wounds begin to heal at her touch.

“You’re lucky Heimdall saw you,” Sif murmurs.

“I’m lucky someone asked him to.”  Despite her healing, Loki winces again as he turns to regard her.

Sif returns the gaze with something dangerously close to pity, but she manages to keep her expression ambiguous enough that he does not protest, and asks simply, “Who did this to you?”

“Hela.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Miss Freyson, glove off if you would.” Mr.Burgon begins as he enters the lab.

“Gloves fit the confines of the school dress code.” Sam mutters, not bothering to look up.

“How would you know any of the school policies?” asks Arthur, a self-righteous ass.

“You have to know the rules to break them, otherwise you’re just an idiot running around making mistakes...like your parents.” She counters tiredly.

“Miss Astrid...as much as I appreciate your...thoroughness in school policies, Miss Freyson and I will be demonstrating with some quite corrosive chemicals today, and I’d hate to ruin the leather on her glove.”

“Right, right…” Sam mutters, sitting back in her chair. She tilts her head back, closing her eyes as her mind wanders from her.

 

* * *

 

 

 _“An entire orchard to defend, and you won’t fight for even one_ inch _of it?” Hela taunts the golden goddess._

_“You bring death everywhere you go.  Not even the great trees of the Æsir can keep themselves from wilting at your touch, for you kill the very meadows upon which you tread,” Idunn replies, allowing her hand to trace mournfully over a slender gilt trunk._

_“I intend to kill more than that.”  And as Idunn looks on in horror, Hela traces one finger over the same trunk, bark blackening at her touch until the entire tree fades from gold to black. "My father's legacy doesn't deserve to burn...it deserves to wilt."_

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey!” Thomas calls as Sam starts to step onto the bus. “I was thinking about what you said, about your dream...did you do anything weird before going to bed?” The bus driver glares as he waits to close the doors.

“Yeah, just a walk in the woods, though. Why?” Sam asks.

Thomas nods, some unknown theory now confirmed. “Can Ode and I come over and test the area after practice? I think the spike in activity last night might be connected with it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam agrees, stepping back down from the bus at the last minute. “I’ll meet you guys there; I think I’m gonna walk home today…”

* * *

 

Loki is already wrapped in Sif’s cloak when they return to Midgard.

He leans on her still when she leads them out, ducking into alleys and pausing every so often to avoid people.

“Heimdall will have questions,” she warns him as they hide in the shadows. “As do I—” she starts before looking back, only to find him already gone.

 

* * *

 

 

“Kinda quiet today,” Rose comments as she pours seven shots for the bikers that come in every Thursday. “It’s nice.”

Ruth, an older woman who had worked at Stan’s for half her life, takes the tray of shots from Rose’s counter, carrying them with a finesse that only comes after doing something for decades. As she passes by the door, a rough looking stranger enters and collapses into a booth. He looks...not like he’s had a rough _day_ , but a series of rough nights before it. After working at Stan’s, Rose knows how to spot the difference.  She regards him curiously for a moment before making her move.

She sets a large mug of cider in front of him, lingering a bit to see if he will look up enough for her to see his face. He tilts his head up just a bit, chin and lips showing, and breathes a word of thanks before Rose heads back to her post.

* * *

 

Sam sighs deeply as she ducks under the torn fence, running a hand through her hair as she pushes open the door to the old gym. The place was supposed to be locked up years ago, but locks had never really stopped Sam. She kicks around the same trash that’s filled the place since it got closed up. Old posters still line the walls, having been glued instead of taped. “ ** _GRAND CHAMPION_** **_ROSIE ‘RIOT’ ASTRID_** ,” the newest among them shout, staring down at her like the eyes of Notre Dame. Sam stays in the gym for no more than thirty painful minutes before she sneaks back out. Her eyes still adjusted to the dark, she blinks hard when the patrol car turns on its headlights as she walks by.

“Really? Waiting for me, Gregson?” she sighs as the patrolman steps out of the vehicle.

“ _Officer_ Gregson,” he corrects automatically, crossing his arms. “Get in, kid. I’m sure your dad’s gonna be worried sick to find you trespassing again, but I’ve got to take you in.”

Sam snorts. “My dad’s not worried about much of anything, and yeah, I’m _sure_ you ‘have’ to.”  But Sam knows when she’s been caught.

 

* * *

 

 

Rose is making a Midori Sour when the fight breaks out. She couldn’t tell who or what instigated it, but she could tell that someone had a knife, and that things were about to get ugly.

She hops the counter, cocktail still half-made, and pushes her way into the brawl. She shouts for order at the top of her lungs, and to her relief, the fight stops. Rose takes a good look at the two offenders. Nothing but bruises on the first man, but the other man - the hooded one she’d noticed earlier - is bleeding. The knife she’d seen the first man brandishing just before her intervention now sprouts from the hooded man’s abdomen, but by some miracle, no major organs appear to have been damaged.

Rose whips back to the knife’s owner.  “Go home, Freyson.  Get yourself cleaned up and brush your teeth before your daughter comes home and smells it on you.” The bikers, for once doing something useful, stare Freyson down until he finally leaves.

She turns back to the wounded customer. “Hi...okay...okay, it’s just a flesh wound. I’m gonna take you to the back room and patch you up, all right?” she asks in the most soothing tone she can muster. The man wavers for a moment before nodding his assent. “All right, good. Let me help,” she insists, putting an arm over his shoulder before immediately taking it back as he winces. “It’s not far, I promise.”  He leans heavily on her as she half-drags him through the double doors.

After Rose gets him seated on the owner’s desk, she shuts and locks the door as an extra caution.  “I’m sorry about Freyson,” she begins. “He’s a...complicated case.” She pulls the first aid kit down from the top shelf, fishes out the hand sanitizer, and rubs it up to her forearms before pulling off her flannel jacket.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got experience in this, just...don’t freak out.” Rose rummages around in the first aid kit a bit longer before holding up a thick gauze pad. “We have to take the knife out, alright?”

He nods.

She pulls it out quickly, pressing the gauze firmly against his wound. “Overcoat off, please, I can’t get a good look at it.”

He shakes the garment (which Rose belatedly registers as a _cloak_ ) off his shoulders. She looks over the rest of his front, then reaches into the kit and pulls out a sterile needle. “Hold the gauze down, please.”

His pale, thin fingers hold down the pad as she tears the package open, revealing a pre-threaded needle.

“This’ll sting a bit, but nothing you can’t handle, all right, kid?” Rose reassures him, glancing up to gauge his expression and letting her surprise show for just a moment. She then focuses back on the wound, one hand holding the gauze again, the other’s fingers firmly gripping the needle. She pulls back the gauze, just enough at a time to work with, until she’s done. She soaks a clean pad in hydrogen peroxide, wiping over the wound with it, before smearing neosporin over it and covering it with yet another clean gauze pad. She uses medical tape to line the outside and stands. She observes him more closely now, clenching her jaw as she looks over his mouth.

“Here,” she begins, pulling a small bottle of mouthwash out of the kit and handing it to him. “Do a rinse with this, it’ll help against infection.” Rose turns a bit to get a look at his back. She wets another clean gauze pad with peroxide, dabbing it over his back, letting her touches turn gentler still as she feels him wince. Finally, the man now thoroughly cleaned up, Rose dumps all the bloodied and used supplies into the trash. To her amusement, she watches the man swish the blue liquid around before spitting it into the trash as well.

“Thank you,” he mutters softly, voice raw. She regards him for a moment before digging through a box behind the desk and tossing him a black t-shirt emblazoned with **_STAN’S_ ** in huge white lettering on the back.

“You can stay back here as long as you need.  I’ll check in on you later,” she promises, unlocking the door.  “As for me, I have to get back to work.”


	2. this is a real chapter this time i promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's finally here thank you for your patience

Loki’s been in cells before, but none so...well, frankly,  _ pathetic _ as this. 

 

The bars are more than weak enough for him to break through, though perhaps not in his current state. A young girl sits in the far corner, one wrist cuffed to a bar.  She looks almost bored with the whole thing until she sees them enter.

“You know this is against state policy, right?” she asks as he’s led into the cell, cuffed opposite her. “Oh, and this  _ definitely  _ is.”

The officer pays her no heed as he locks the cell, glancing over the two for a moment before promptly leaving.  Another moment passes by, and the girl looks up before languidly pulling a small key from her boot.

“This your first time?” she asks him, key held between her teeth as she pulls herself up.

“No, not my first time…” he replies, regarding her curiously as she unlocks her cuff.

She kneels in front of the cell door.  “Yeah, well.  What were  _ you _ taken in for?”

“Trespassing, of all things,” he answers with a touch of self-deprecation, watching her closely as she removes a small pick and pin.

“Huh, same,” she mutters, reaching around and working on the lock.  “Were you also at the old gym?”

“That torn building?” he asks.

The girl snorts.  “That describes about half the places in this shit town, but I think we’re on the same page.”  Something clicks softly and she smiles. She pushes the door open, shoving the pick and pin back in her boot before tossing him the key.  “Keep it, I’ve got copies,” she insists, heading out of the cell and grabbing her bag from the unlabeled tub it was being kept in.  She pulls out her phone, glancing to it for a moment before cursing under her breath and looking back.  Her expression is pensive, though it turns bewildered when she notices his shirt.  “My sister works there,” she mutters.  “I wonder...”  But catching sight of the time again, she shakes her head and runs out the door.

Loki uses the key she gave him, watching as she runs off.  The amulet around her neck seemed familiar, and the raven following her almost mockingly so.

* * *

 

Sam’s out of breath by the time she gets back home, but she kisses her father’s forehead and drops her stuff regardless.  She takes no time to catch it as she runs back out, following the sound of Ode and Thomas discussing their findings, and stopping as she heard him shout.

“There it is!” he exclaims, holding a small, yellow, plastic device. “Another spike in activity.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Sam asks, nearing them as something lands on a branch above them.

“This,” Thomas replies, showing her the screen of the device.

“...Okay, you’re gonna have to tell me what that means,” Sam says, squinting at it.

“It means that there was more than a slight spike in cosmic activity last night,” Ode explains.

“So?” Sam asks.

“‘So?’” Thomas repeats.  “So these levels of cosmic activity are  _ unprecedented _ .  This amount of gamma radiation wouldn’t even be appropriate if the Tesseract came crashing to Earth. It’s still a low amount, yet detectable. It’s astounding, it’s unheard of, it’s—”  He pauses, peering at the device and stepping closer to Sam.  “I-it’s coming from  _ you _ …” he whispers strangely, eyes wide as he glances up.

“ _ What _ ?” Sam sputters, glancing down to find the device pointed at... _ oh _ . “I found this necklace out here last night,” she explains, finger tracing over the amulet.  “What are we gonna do now?”

* * *

 

Ruth waves goodnight, ducking out a few minutes early to be home in time to put her grandchildren to bed, and Rose doesn’t mind. 

 

She cuts up citrus for the next day, wipes down the bar and tables, and counts the drawer before collapsing into a booth with a sigh. The bags under her eyes are big enough to warrant worried glances from customers, and the aching in her feet is intense enough to make her want to cut them off. 

 

She has a moment’s peace before three teenagers she’s all too familiar with come crashing in.  Their voices all overlap one another, and she briefly considers shouting at them to shut up and go home.  She takes a large breath and sighs.

“ _ One _ at a  _ time _ ,” she insists, all falling silent for a moment.

“We were testing the woods behind your house and found unprecedented levels of radiation and extradimensional energy,” Thomas blurts out.

“ _ And _ ?”

“And...it was coming from Sam,” Ode says.  “From her necklace, to be exact.”

“Which means?” Rose asks, not entirely sure how much of this to believe but turning to Sam and looking hard at the amulet.

“Which means Doctor Jane Foster is giving a presentation tomorrow morning at the university and if we start driving tonight, we can be there in time to ask her for her help,” Thomas continues, an edge of desperation in his voice.

“How do we even know if she’ll agree to help?” Rose asks tiredly.

“She will,” another familiar voice replies, its source seeming to emerge from the shadows.

Sam turns, gaping at the man in horror.  She covers her mouth, silencing a cry as she stares.  “That all  _ really  _ happened…” she murmurs.  Ode pushes her way in front of Thomas as the familiar stranger sinks into a chair and winces. 

“Yes, it did,” another voice assures them, all looking upon its source in relief.

“The warrior Sif…” Ode breathes in amazement.

“Yes,” Sif agrees, then turning to face Sam.

“How did I—”

“You were granted the Sight of the Ravens, among other things, when you were deemed worthy of the Eye of Odin,” Sif explains.

Sam looks nearly mortified.  “That raven I fed…” she mutters, fingers tracing over the amulet for a moment. “I...I don’t—the things I saw were horrifying, you had your...I don’t want this,” she decides, pulling the amulet only partially off before she’s stopped.

“Don’t do that!” Loki snaps, hand thrust out in anticipation. 

“If you reject the Eye’s offer and power, it will go hurling through the cosmos,” Sif warns.  “ _ Again _ .”

Sam cautiously lowers her hand.

“It already took us this long to find it,” Loki sighs.

“We really must speak with Lady Jane,” Sif insists, bringing them back to the issue at hand.

They all stand in silence for a moment.

“Okay,” Rose agrees, not sure she likes whatever they've just gotten themselves into. “Okay, yeah...let’s all pack and meet up at the house, okay? Just the necessities.  You get 30 minutes.”

“I said  _ necessities _ ,” Rose sighs as Sam runs about gathering her things. Their father had gone  _ God knows where _ , and their house was surprisingly quiet for the circumstances.  Sam passes by, multiple knives in her grasp before she sheathes them in her boots.

“Hey hey hey!” Rose shouts, turning her head to watch as Sam then stuffs granola bars into her bag.  “How are  _ knives  _ a  _ necessity _ ?”

Sam favors her sister with a colossally unimpressed look.  “We’re about to go on a five-hour car ride with  _ the god of mischief _ , how are they  _ not _ ?”

Rose sighs for what must be the fiftieth time in the last half hour and rubs at her eyes.  Loki grins at her in a way which is not  _ remotely _ reassuring.

“Yeah, fine,” she mutters, Sam then rushing off to stuff even more things into her bag.  Rose returns to neatly pack her own bag. 

“You were a warrior once?” Lady Sif asks, looking over pictures and framed posters.

“I wouldn’t exactly say  _ that _ ,” Rose replies, shoving a hoodie to the bottom of her bag.

“You have a good heart ” Sif continues, eyes still focused on the frames.

Rose stops, amused.  “I don’t know how you got that from pictures of me beating people up in a sports bra, but–”

“Thank you,” Sif interrupts softly, glancing towards her.

“For what?”

“Not letting him bleed out in your tavern.”  Sif nods her head towards Loki.  He sits in a chair, eyes closed, and expression utterly exhausted.

Sam meanders in.  “I’m ready to go when you are.”  At that same moment, Thomas pulls up outside.  Rose zips up the top of her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as they walk out the door.

“Oh, thank God,” she sighs as she spots Thomas’s SUV.  “I had no idea how we were all gonna fit.”  She chuckles as she heads to the back, opening the hatch and putting her bag in.  “Come on, stuff in the back, let’s go,” she commands, taking and positioning everyone’s bags before shutting it. 

Thomas hands her the keys without a word, climbing in the back as Ode follows. Sam hops into the passenger seat, leaving Sif and Loki to the middle. Sif glances over to him as he seats himself carefully, wincing only slightly as his back hits the chair. The raven caws overhead as they drive off.

* * *

 

The sun still hasn’t begun to rise when Rose pulls into a gas station. Sif glances up and sits a little straighter as she feels the car slow to a halt.

“Why are we stopping?”

“Because we need gas, and I need coffee,” Rose replies, looking almost as drained as she sounds.

“I can drive us the rest of the way,” Thomas offers, shaking a sleeping Ode softly. 

“I think I’ll take you up on that, Thomas,” Rose replies, unbuckling and opening the door as Sam does the same. “I’ll fill the tank and then we’ll switch.”

Sam stands awkwardly beside her sister as she fills the tank. Tension hangs in the air, and though both know why, neither are excited to explain. 

“I’ve got a voicemail on my phone from Officer Gregson,” Rose begins. “Wanna tell me why before I listen to it?”

“No,” Sam replies defensively. “...Though I’m sure you can guess.”

“You can’t keep going back there, Sam,” Rose sighs. “One of these days, it’s going to be more than a voicemail. You’re going to end up in juvie or jail if you don’t get it together.”

“It was the last place we were happy...the last place we were  _ normal _ ...and maybe I deserve to be there,” Sam mutters, fiddling with the amulet as she does. “Maybe it would be better if I was.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Do what? Don’t say it’s not my fault. Even  _ Dad _ didn’t want her to go, and I asked her to,” Sam snaps back.

“Dad didn’t want her to go because he didn’t want to have to actually be  _ responsible _ for you for more than a day,” Rose counters, some of the old anger seeping into her voice.

“So what? Just because he might have had a selfish reason doesn’t mean it wasn’t  _ right _ .  It’s still my fault,” Sam argues, glancing through the car window, making sure no one was listening, before continuing in a muted tone. “...I killed her.”

“You didn’t kill her, some asshole who thought he could drive did,” Rose replies forcibly, voice growing nearly aggressive in her insistence. “You  _ cannot _ blame yourself for the actions of others, okay?” she asks, Sam nodding and half hugging Rose as she pulls the nozzle from the tank. “Hey, why don’t you go inside, get everyone some snacks and stuff, pay for the gas and coffee?” Rose suggests, holding out her card. “I’m gonna climb in the back and sleep as much as I can between here and St. Louis.”

“Okay,” Sam agrees, taking the card. “Sure.  Want some half and half for the coffee?”

“Actually, get me something cold that’ll last till I have to be awake again,” Rose replies, tapping on the window of the middle seat door. “Scoot, kid, I’m getting in the back.” Loki looks up and sighs as he unbuckles. 

He climbs out of the car, stretching his legs as he meanders near the pump, glancing over the SUV to see Sif doing the same. He looks through the car windows: Ode in the passenger seat and Thomas in the driver’s, both looking over their phones for a moment. Slowly, he backs away towards the gas station. Sif pins him with a sour expression.

“I’m coming back,” he mutters, then turns and enters the station.

* * *

 

Sam’s pressing the lid onto a planet-sized Diet Dr. Pepper when she thinks of it. She glances up to the large bubble mirror in the corner. No one else is there, no one but the attendant. She sets the styrofoam cup on the counter and takes a deep breath. She pulls off the long gold chain, gripping the amulet in her sweaty palm as she observes it.

“You know what happens if you reject it,” an oddly familiar voice warns from behind her. Sam closes her eyes, heart pounding, as she turns.

“So what?” she asks, her defiance flaring up anew. “So what if it goes hurling through the cosmos again? It’s not my problem if you can’t find it next time.”

“You would give up such great power, and for  _ what _ ?” he presses, taunting.

“I don’t want it,” she insists through her teeth. “And I don’t know why, of all people in the universe, it chose  _ me _ . Why me? I’m just some punk kid. What makes me worthy? I didn’t ask for some shitty eye to choose me as its champion!” she nearly shouts, keeping her voice down and glancing to the attendant, who thankfully hadn’t seemed to notice a thing. She glares at him for a moment before grabbing the soda and stomping over towards the chip shelf.

“‘Why me?’” he mocks back. “It didn’t  _ choose  _ you. It landed near you and the raven deemed  _ you  _ worthy.  It isn’t the same thing,” he mutters as he follows her about.

“If it didn’t  _ choose  _ me, then why don’t you take it?” she asks, one arm full of chips and a cold coffee as she sets her things on the counter. She then holds out the amulet.

“I’m not worthy of it,” he replies rather coolly as she rolls her eyes. “And you shouldn’t so easily give up your power.” 

She scoffs. “Just these and the gas,” she says politely to the attendant as he stares at the screen, unaware of the both of them. “He can’t see us, can he?” she then asks, turning back to him.

“No, he can’t. Put the amulet back on.”

“No. I don’t want it. I don’t want the  _ Sight of the Crows _ —”

“ _ Ravens _ —”

“ _ Sight of the Ravens _ , whatever, I don’t want it. I saw, I  _ smelled  _ her. I watched her chain you beneath some snake, I watched her  _ torture  _ you, I—”

“I’d have thought it would have brought you great joy,” he mutters.

“It didn’t, and it wouldn’t, regardless of who she was doing it to. I watched her  _ sew your mouth shut _ , watched her kill an entire meadow just by walking on it, watched her turn a golden tree black and dead just by her touch, and  _ I couldn’t do anything about it _ .”  Sam shudders, disturbed by just the memory of it all.

“And releasing a great power, letting it fall into the hands of someone else, that will help you ‘ _ do something about it _ ?’” he asks mockingly. “You are not some put-upon creature, you are not  _ burdened with glorious purpose _ , you are someone who the raven deemed  _ worthy _ . You aren’t the only one in the universe, and you won’t ever be, but you’re the one who found it first. If you want to ‘ _ do something about it’ _ , put the amulet back on, and don’t ever let it out of your grasp.”

“You seem oddly encouraging,” Sam mutters.

Loki favors her with a dry look.  “That woman, the one you saw, is still out there, and I’d prefer it if whatever it is she’s planning doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, and what’ll happen to me and this stupid amulet when we do stop it?” she asks, brow raised.

“I’m not currently planning to kill you for your power, if that’s what you’re implying,” he assures with an eye roll.

“‘Currently.’ I’m relieved,” she scoffs, glancing back to the attendant, still unaware of them. “Right. Can you make him see us so I can buy this stuff and get going already?”

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to my wonderful beta over on tumblr at dying-suffering-french-stalkers. I myself am over at labyrinthphanlivingafacade


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